Ghost
by anselsboob
Summary: Jean Kirschtein was normal. He had amazing friends, a family that loved him, and people that respected him. He was happy. 'But someone's there holding me back, tears streaming down his face, and there's a scream escaping my mouth that pierces my heart over and over. It's a scream nobody, not one person standing there in the empty road can forget.' Mental Institute AU.


College. That's where I was headed and just the thought brought the little hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

The only one who would really understand my situation was Marco and he was the only person not here to be understanding.

For the past 6 months of my life I've been known as the guy who's friends died in the accident. The guy who didn't die. People act like they're walking on egg shells around me, they always say 'I'm sorry' but none of them mean it. I don't believe in apologies because the moment those two words leave their lips and you have eye contact with that person it isn't hard to tell they are only saying it to be polite. But is saying sorry really going to change anything is it?

My parents keep telling me to move on but it's hardly that simple. I've always wanted to go to college, to have a sense of independence other than making dinner and catching the school bus but now it just seemed like torture. I would have to stay in the dorm he and I had been given and watch some random guy staying in _his_ bed every night, putting clothes into _his_ wardrobe.

I see their faces everywhere I go. Every time I walk past our table at the local coffee shop I see us sitting together laughing at something someone had said.

I was afraid of falling asleep each night in fear if the nightmares that haunted my dreams. I would wake up screaming at nothing. Asking why they had left me? Was it because I was a bad friend? Had I not been there for Sasha every time her latest boyfriend had broken up with her? And Connie? Did I not help him study for every test he had forgotten to study for? And Marco, he was just Marco, too busy worrying about others to really pay attention to himself.

I got out of bed and picked up an random shirt off of the floor, it just happened to be a washed out green, before pulling it over my head. My body was fit and healthy just over two months ago but now the person who stared back at me in the mirror was barely a shred of the boy I used to be. My boney limbs and pale complexion made the figure in front of me weak. I was weak and it made me sick to my stomach.

I was always told to be grateful that I got out with minimal scarring and nothing worse. But they doesn't know what it's like going through every day knowing that if you hadn't lived one of them might have.

I sighed as I turned to look at my room one last time. All of my things were in large moving boxes and my photos and miscellaneous items I had placed around my room, the things that made the room mine, had been taken down and packed away a few days ago. I knew my room was going to be renovated and made into a home office for my father the second he got back from dropping me off.

Everyone else had finished being sad and mourning the loss of their friends and I was told I should do the same but I couldn't seem to. It was like I was trapped in my own bubble of depression and I could only watch as everyone got on with their lives and smiled. It almost felt as if I was a mere remnant of the person I used to be. The old Jean.

I quietly put on my sneakers and trudged silently down the stairs. My dad was already waiting in the lounge room with my packed duffle of clothes, books and other things I felt it necessary to have with me.  
"Come on. We have a three hour drive ahead of us." He said with a toothy grin.

I walked past him picking up my bag as I went, no emotion showing on my face, and got into the passenger seat of the car. I quickly plugged my ear phones into my iPod and pretended to listen to music as my dad got into the car knowing he would try and talk to me.

I leaned my head back against the back of the head rest and closed my eyes listening to the melodic pitter patter of the rain against the windshield as we started our long drive. I thought of the people trying to get out of the rain, somewhere a man might have been using his brief case as an umbrella as he desperately fumbled with his keys trying to get into his house and a mother would be ushering her young son into a cafe as she both tried to hold up her umbrella and keep her son from splashing in the many puddles along the sidewalk. My eye lids grew heavy and my conscious thoughts were being washed away like the rain on the windscreen, the sound slowly fading as I welcomed the warm embrace of sleep.

*flashback*

_"We did it!" Marco said enthusiastically with a light laugh. His laugh is contagious and I, nor Sasha or Connie, can help laughing and smiling along with him._

_I look back into the passenger seat where Sasha is laughing at something Connie said and they're both smiling at each other. They both claimed numerous times they were just friends but anyone could tell by the look in their eyes there was more to it than that._

_I turn back around and face the front so I can see the sky. It's a sunny blue sky, not a cloud in sight and perfect weather for the last day of school. Yes that's right, I Jean Kirschtein have officially finished high school. The only thing we have to do now is go to a graduation party Marco's parents are throwing and we're done. No more worrying about handing in assignments on time, no more stress about tests unprepared for, it was all done with. Well until college but that was a whole summer away and I didn't want to waste it worrying about stupid things_.

_I'm the happiest I can remember being in my life._

_That's when it happens. Something darts across the road and Marco swerves the car to avoid hitting it. The mitsubishi leaves the road, suddenly the car is rolling and Sasha isn't laughing anymore._

_The car keeps going and there's a shriek of metal as something red sprays across my face. I cry out with another slam of the car. I feel my body being thrown and then there is silence._

_I can see a figure running towards the scene but it doesn't matter because all of my friends are still in the car._

_I get up slowly, so slowly, and turn towards the car. That's when I notice the petrol leaking from the twisted wreck and flames licking at the ground. The car is going to explode soon and there's nothing I can do - and Marco's in the front seat with blood trickling down his neck and he's not opening his eyes._

_I start dragging myself towards the car because that's it for me, because my whole life is in that car and there's no way I'm letting them go without me._

_I glance at Connie and time around us seems to stop as he holds my stare and there's a look in his eyes that I've never seen before but it doesn't stop the car from exploding right in front of me._

_I keep crawling towards the wreckage though because what else can I do?_

_But someone's there holding me back, tears streaming down his face and there's a scream escaping my mouth that pierces my heart over and over. It's a scream nobody, not one person standing there in the empty road can forget._

_My friends are gone. They're gone forever and they can't come back._

*end if flashback*

I gasped my eyes wide and I sat up straight I'm my bed, eyes wide. I looked around the room to gather my senses but this wasn't my room. I wasn't in my car either.

I must already be at college I thought as I swung my legs out of the bed and walked towards the door. I reached for the handle but it was already being opened by someone else on the other side.

I jumped back getting a shock as a nurse walked into my room. "How're you doing, love?" She asked bringing in a tray of food, "You looked quite shaken up when you came in earlier."

She placed the tray down on a table next to me but all I could seem to do was stare in confusion. "Where am I?" I wanted to say more, I had so many questions, but I just managed to get those three simple words past my lips.

She gave me an obnoxious smile and left the room. I looked down at the hospital bracelet on my wrist and spun it around so I could see what it said.

_'Jean Kirschtein, 17 -Schizophrenic'_


End file.
